Just like Americans, the British have their idioms. The first time I heard, "everything turned up pear-shaped," I assumed it meant something went bad, because our whole team lesson had just failed miserably. However, thinking about it later, isn't pear-shaped a good thing: good round solid base to support the tapering neck? Seems you'd want things pear shaped. Unless, of course, the British should be saying things turned out "Upside down and pear-shaped"

My first week teaching a class of 10th grade Emirati boys brought many surprises and lots of learning opportunities.One day, I had passed out a worksheet and my students were working diligently to complete it.Halfway through, Mohammed interrupted the quiet classroom, “Teacher, teacher, rubber?”Needless to say, I was shocked. “What?”Mohammed continued, “Teacher, I need rubber.”“Um, I don’t think…” I was stopped mid-sentence as I watched Ahmed hand an eraser to Mohammed.“Nevermind, teacher. I got it.”Well, I got it too! But I still held in quiet chuckles every time my students asked for rubbers!

“So, what’d you do this weekend?” I asked my carpool colleague. “Friday night, we went to the Irish Village with Alicia and Shawn,” she answered. “Oh, fun. I love that place. Was there a good band?” “Oh yeah. We danced all night. And Alicia got so pissed.” “Why was she pissed?” I asked. “Oh, she drank way too much tequila.” “Yeah, but what’d she get pissed about?” At this point, she looked at me oddly and repeated, “She drank too much tequila.” I decided on a different tactic. “Why was she mad?” “She wasn’t mad; she just got pissed.” Clearly, we were talking about different things. “Wait. What do you mean ‘pissed’?” “She drank too much and threw up.”

Apparently, getting “pissed” means something entirely different to the Brits.

Sarcasm is an American thing. And even in my high school teaching here I was continuously warned not to use sarcasm. However, it’s difficult not to when freshmen are just sitting targets. Teaching is fun when you have sarcasm on your side. And whatever admin says, the students enjoy a good sarcastic bit every once in a while too. For example, when Jack (not a common name at all and the only Jack in our whole school, or town for that matter) would not be quiet. I told him, “Jack, stop talking.” Innocently, little Jack looked over at me, “Who me?” And I couldn’t resist, “No, the other Jack.” Jack stopped talking and looked around the room. It took him a full 20 seconds to burst out, “Hey, I’m the only Jack in here.” The students laughed and gave him a hard time—and Jack is still fine because of it. This didn’t work quite as well in the UAE, because when I said, “No, the other Mohammed,” eight other boys in the class would look up and announce, “I’m not talking.” But one day I had an opportunity to explain sarcasm to my UAE students: Mohammed was in the wrong seat and I told him, “Mohammed, you need to get to your seat.” “Ok, teacher,” and slowly Mohammed began to collect his supplies.” A minute later, Mohammed was still at the wrong place and talking to his friends. “Mohammed, please get to your seat.” “Ok, ok teacher.” As Mohammed made his way across the class, he stopped to talk to at least three people. After about two more minutes, I told him again, “Mohammed, please get to your seat.” “Ok, Ok teacher,” he continued. “Do you need some water?” This is what the boys would ask if they thought I was getting stressed or upset. Apparently, when camels become distraught, water is the antidote. “Mohammed, I do not need water. I need you to get to your seat.” “Ok teacher, ok teacher. See, I am at my seat.” I gushed with enthusiasm, “Wonderful, Mohammed. That is fantastic. That only took you four minutes to get to your assigned seat. Amazing.” At this, Mohammed sat up straight, tilted his head, and broke into a proud smile. “Thank you, teacher.” I chuckled, “No, Mohammed, that was sarcasm. I was being sarcastic. Do you know what that means?” “Sarcasm, teacher? What is this?” I started slowly, “Well it’s where I’m saying something, but I don’t really mean it. It’s not true.” Mohammed’s eyes lit up with acknowledgement and he burst out, “Oh, you mean like Christmas?”

Driving with a co-worker who was from Spain one day, I knew we had passed our turn. So I told him matter-of-factly, "You need to flip a bitch."He expressed concern, stating, "Fleep a Beetch? I do not understand what this means?""Flip a bitch. You know, make a U-turn." "Fleep a beetch? This is U-turn?""Yes. Everyone says it." Apparently everyone does not say this because the British in the car did not know what I was saying either so I just explained the slang as I knew it.Apparently, the Spaniard did not quite get the concept. Because 2 weeks later when we were all laying out in the sun, I had had enough on my front side and said something to the effect, "I need to turn over because I am getting burned," to which the Spaniard sat up and announced, "Ah, I get it, fleep a beetch!"

Everyone’s accent is just a bit different. And do not insult them by mixing them up. A scouser (person from Liverpool) sounds nothing like a Cockney (person from London—but don’t call them Cockneys, they’re Londoners!) But the accents are many. There’s London English and Cockney and Southeast British and Southwest British and Brummie and Northern English in Liverpool and Manchester and Welsh and Scottish English. And God help you if you meet a Geordie. You may think you understand English (which is what Geordie claims it is) but you’ll probably only catch about every fifth word as recognizable. Anybody watch America’s Got Talent with Cheryl Cole? That’s a Geordie; she didn’t last long. No one could understand her, not even Simon. “It would be fun to go into town for a beer” sounds like “It waad be canny like te gan in te toon te hev a toon broon ale.” I found myself just nodding and laughing when I thought it appropriate when caught in a conversation with a Geordie. Although they are great people; they'll be the first to tell you that! ;)

Working with British colleagues exhausted me. I was quick to learn that there were many differences in teaching my English and the Cambridge English--which of course, according to the British, was the only correct way. God forbid if you spell color without a “u”. They go all-out superior on you. It was usually best to just keep my mouth shut and not point out things like if you spell colour with a “u” a red squiggly line points out that you’ve spelled (spelt) it incorrectly (see, it's there).Many misplaced words and different customs warranted half hour "discussions" in the teacher training room. "Discussions" usually consisted of the British enlightening us lesser Americans and if we tried to explain "our way" it just brought on a much louder explanation of the British way.Just a few of the things I had to learn: British put their groceries in the boot, not the trunk. Americans wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a jumper; but a sweater is fine. The mention of a fanny pack warrants a good British laugh. Chips are fries; but fries are called chips—they’re the same damn thing; except Americans eat them with ketchup. A tray of biscuits are scones. Flap-jacks are granola bars and not a pancake at all—when our colleague mentioned bringing flap-jacks in for breakfast I brought syrup. Yes, co-workers are colleagues. Fancy, eh? And getting pissed is not being upset at all, but you probably shouldn’t drink anymore. In America, you proctor; in Britain you invigilate. The first time I heard we had to invigilate, I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of it. Until I realized they just meant proctor.And this was all just the first day!